


Atomic Man

by radio_exodus



Series: 25 Odes [4]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi is not ok after the winter cup, M/M, Mental Illness, Rare Pair, Slow Burn, angsty, but happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 15:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11740293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radio_exodus/pseuds/radio_exodus
Summary: Akashi is not an idiot. He is well aware that lucid nightmares, panic attacks and loss of time are not things that are considered normal or healthy. He’s far from denial.What he is, though, is in control. Or, he was, until Shougo appears in his life for the first time in years, and suddenly everything starts to feel very much out of control.Or; the one where Haizaki and Akashi are both damaged goods after the Winter Cup, and gravitate towards each other as if it will fix them.





	Atomic Man

Akashi paused briefly in front of the building, allowing himself a moment for composure. It was new, shiny chrome and glistening windows standing out starkly against the older brick and concrete that surrounded it. The front door was a tall and narrow sheet of glass that swung open with a certain amount of satisfying momentum. Inside it was as minimal as it was outside, a small potted flower on the reception desk the only dash of color.

“Dr. Julia Yamada, please,” He told the bland receptionist quietly, and she directed him to suite 2D. It was 3:58 by the time he entered a stylish waiting room, right on time – if there was one thing that Akashi hated, it was waiting.

Exactly two minutes later, the single door aside from the exit swung open. A slightly harried older woman stepped out, her eyes tellingly swollen, and she gave Akashi a brief nod of acknowledgement before rushing out of the office. As she left, a second woman stepped out of the room, her face blank and her hair pulled into a severe bun.

Akashi rose smoothly from his seat.

“Akashi Seijuuro,” she said, although it was pointless really. He was the only one in the waiting room. He strode forward, and she nodded slightly at him before gesturing for him to enter the room.

It was bare-bones – there was a chair and a couch angled toward each other with a small table between them, and a single, utilitarian desk. The only other noteworthy aspect of the room was the wall of windows, but half of it was shuttered by curtains.

Behind him, he heard the door close.

“Please, sit down,” Dr. Yamada said, heels clicking as she walked past him toward the chair. Her voice was slightly accented, presumably North American of some sort, judging by her fair hair and first name.

“Thank you,” he replied, sinking down slowly into the couch.

“Would you like anything to drink?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” he said. She sat down across from him.

Neither of them said anything for the next several moments. She had picked up a notebook off the table, but instead of opening it she was looking at him. Her eyes were a stormy gray, slightly darker than her charcoal suit. They seemed to pierce through his skin.

Finally, she looked down at her notebook and clicked her pen.

“So, Seijuuro – do you mind if I call you Seijuuro?” Akashi shook his head. It didn’t particularly matter to him what people called him. She nodded.

“Well, Seijuuro, usually on first visits I spend the first 20 minutes or so introducing my client to my practice and telling them about myself. It makes people more comfortable with me, you understand.” She continued to look at Akashi. He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement.

“I think that you, however, have no need for such niceties. So why don’t you simply tell me what has brought you to me?” Akashi tapped a finger against the armrest thoughtfully – she was better at reading people than he had expected. For a moment, he simply looked at her, debating – but this _was_ what he came here for.

“I am… increasingly worried about my mental stability. I have quite a lot riding on my ability to use my mental capacities to the fullest, so I feel that this is something I need to address as soon as possible,” Akashi’s voice was even – he was a little surprised. Dr. Yamada nodded.

“And what, do you believe, has been causing this mental instability?” she inquired. Akashi stared steadily into her eyes. The sun was just beginning to set over the city, and it painted her face crimson.

“I don’t know.”

It wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either.

-

Akashi left the appointment slightly more shaken than he would have liked. Dr. Yamada had seen through him completely, and it was unexpectedly unnerving. She had ended up dragging him into a conversation about his early childhood, which he hadn’t given more than a fleeting thought in years.

It made him realize just how different he was now than he used to be.

He was still perturbed by the time he got back to the train station, which is why he didn’t realize who the person waiting for the train in front of him was until the other boy turned to look to his side.

“Shougo?” he said, the smallest ounce of surprise slipping into his voice. Shougo startled and turned around completely, eyes widening for a split second before they narrowed again. He slouched down, a sneer working onto his face.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the emperor himself,” he drawled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Akashi let indifference slide across his face. He wasn’t sure how he had missed him before – the corn rows and piercings were hardly inconspicuous in a sea of the notoriously straight laced Japanese.

“I was not aware you frequented Kyoto,” he deadpanned, careful to keep any hint of interest out of his voice. And he was interested – although he had been busy at the time, he had heard about the confrontation between Ryouta and Shougo before their match at the Winter Cup. His attention had been captured, if nothing else – they used to be his, his team, and so anything that concerned them concerned him as well.

“There’s a lotta shit you don’t know, your highness,” Shougo shot back, but when Akashi looked back at him, his cheeks seemed to be the slightest bit flushed.

Interesting.

Just then, a train pulled into the station

“Well, this is my train, Shougo,” Akashi said, and turned without giving him another look. Shougo just grunted from behind him.

That had certainly been unexpected.

-

By the time Akashi had reached home that day, he had already pushed all thoughts of his trip into town into a box, shut it tightly, and stored it deep in the dusty corners of his memory. He was very good at compartmentalizing. One had to be to survive as an Akashi.

The only thing he allowed his mind to linger on for a moment was Shougo.

Seeing him wasn’t painful, per say. It was more that it had jolted Akashi back into the past, more than he really wanted to be. He tried not to dwell too much on his Teiko days – it only led down the path of crazy. But seeing Shougo again…

Akashi slipped on his silk pajamas and pushed it from his mind.

-

The next day, Akashi didn’t wake up in his bed.

Instead, he woke up with wet, clean hair and his toothbrush in his mouth, bent over the sink. When he looked up into the mirror, he didn’t know if he recognized the person staring back at him.

His throat felt dry.

-

Akashi was distracted, and his team could tell. It wasn’t enough to impact his performance – he would never let himself get in the way of his performance – but they were giving him surreptitious looks throughout practice, when they thought he wasn’t looking. Reo had even gone so far as to try to bring it up (he had aborted a few words in, but Akashi knew what he was trying to say).

In truth, he had been distracted for a while, when it came to basketball. Practice was taxing in a way it never had before. He felt like he was constantly on edge.

Suddenly a ball came flying at him from his right, and he reflexively whipped and slammed it hard enough to make it bounce against the wall across the gym (as if to prove his point).

“Sorry Akashi,” Eikishi called out, and Akashi raises a hand in acknowledgment. His fingers stung where they had slammed into the ball.

Reo watched him from the sidelines as he wiped his hand one too many times on his shorts.

-

“Tell me about basketball.”

Akashi cupped a steaming mug of tea in his hands. Dr. Yamada was far too adept at guessing what was on his mind.

“What would you like to know?” his voice was steady, but her eyebrows raised infinitesimally.

“It seems to be an important part of your life. You schedule our appointments around it. Surely you have something to say about it?” Akashi let out a small breath.

He had a lot to say about it.

But as he looked across at those gray eyes, his words stuck in his throat like natto.

“It was the one thing I got to choose for myself,” he said instead, looking down into the murky drink in his hands.

“Everything else was my father’s. He almost didn’t let me have basketball at all,” he continued, then stopped.

“Do you blame him for that?” Dr. Yamada asked, pen unmoving in her hand, as it was every week.

Did Akashi blame him for that? He didn’t really know.

“Not… exactly. He was – is – in a very difficult position, as a father. I respect that,” he paused. Dr. Yamada waited patiently as he rolled his next words around in his mouth.

“He did what he had to. But… it felt like it was all at my expense. Basketball was, I suppose, my rebellion.”

Was that right? Probably.

As Dr. Yamada’s eyes bored into him, however, Akashi couldn’t help but feel as though he had given the wrong answer entirely.

-

A shuddering breath left Akashi’s throat unbidden as he walked towards train station. Pausing for a moment, he forced himself to take a few deep breaths. He could feel anxiety welling up in his stomach, creeping up to wrap around his throat and fill his mouth, threatening to suffocate him. Shit, he hadn’t felt it this intensely in a very long time.

Maybe therapy wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Before the panic could fully set in, however, he spotted a familiar face walking towards him.

“Shougo,” He blurted out before he could stop himself, voice unexpectedly uneven. He knew he didn’t look like himself, off-balance and flustered and fuck but this was not how he wanted Shougo to see him. It was too late, though.

The other boy started, eyes widening for a moment before they narrowed in a sneer and he sauntered towards Akashi.

“Your highness,” he replied mockingly, but his eyes were interested as the swept across Akashi. “You don’t look too hot. What’s got your panties in a twist?” Akashi straightened himself up a bit, trying to force the anxiety to retreat a little.

“Nothing at all, Shougo. What, may I ask, are you doing in Kyoto for the second week in a row?” Akashi was relieved to find his voice was steady.

“Nothin’ at all, your highness,” he shot back, sneer curling up into a sharp grin. Akashi almost rolled his eyes, but felt the corner of his lip twitching all the same.

“How childish, Shougo. I didn’t realize you had yet to graduate middle school,” Akashi shot back without thinking, a hint of humor creeping into his voice, and god, had he really just said that?

Shougo let out a surprised laugh.

“What’d you know, the emperor thinks he’s a real funny guy,” Shougo replied. Akashi really did roll his eyes this time.

Suddenly, Shougo’s face dropped into an unhappy scowl. His eyes were fixed on something behind Akashi, and Akashi fought the urge to turn around. He had _some_ dignity left.

“Gotta go,” he mumbled, before pushing past Akashi. Akashi allowed himself one glance back a few deep breaths later, but all he saw was Shougo disappearing around a corner.

Well, whatever. He couldn’t say he was upset the conversation was over. It had been profoundly unsettling. If Akashi didn’t know better, he almost might have said they had been… well. He did know better, and so instead of dwelling, he turned and headed towards the train station.

Akashi blamed the whole thing on the fact that he had been about to have a full-blown panic attack for the first time in years.

-

Tetsuya was a bit unbearably happy, nowadays.

Akashi sat across from him right now, absently stirring the lukewarm coffee in front of him while Tetsuya talked about his brand new romantic endeavors with Kagami. His eyes were bright, and there was a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips as he told Akashi that “he’s an incurable idiot when it comes to dating, he always wants us to play basketball instead of actually going out.”

Akashi hummed noncommittally, and Tetsuya was suddenly looking at him with sharper eyes, barely-there smile fading away.

“Of course, you already know what a blockhead Kagami-kun is. Akashi-kun is lucky he has no one on his team who’s as incompetent as Kagami-kun is.” His voice was casual, but the comment felt heavy. Tetsuya had always had a way of cutting straight to the heart of things.

“I suppose,” Akashi replied, but it sounded off, even to his ears. Blue eyes studied him critically.

“Rakuzan hasn’t been playing many practice matches recently,” Tetsuya commented, and Akashi’s grip on his spoon tightened infinitesimally.

“Not as such. We have not felt the need for them quite yet,” and now it was Tetsuya’s turn to hum, but instead of noncommittal, his sounded doubtful. This was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable. Akashi grasped around for a change of topic.

“I ran into Shougo the other day,” he settled on – interesting enough to hold Tetsuya’s attention, and definitely safer than basketball. The other boy’s eyebrow quirked up in surprise.

“Haizaki-san?”

“Yes. Twice, in fact. For some unknown reason, he was in Kyoto two weeks in a row.” Akashi took a small sip of his coffee. It was far too sweet – cloying. Tetsuya was still looking at him, face unreadable.

“I’m sure Akashi-kun heard what happened with Kise-kun,” He said, after what felt like forever.

“Yes, I heard about it in passing.” There was a flash of something that flickered across Tetsuya’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Kise-kun seemed quite shaken by it. Haizaki-san must have done something quite threatening.” As he spoke, his gaze stayed intently on the other boy.

Akashi felt oddly touched by his concern.

“He seems tame enough now. He still insists on calling me emperor, though.” Tetsuya looked at him for a moment or two more before he seemed satisfied and sat back in his chair.

“Yes, that does sound like Haizaki-san,” the other replied, and his voice was lighter now.

Akashi considered telling Tetsuya about their interaction the other day (looking back, it was somewhat more amusing than it had seemed at the time), but if he brought up the anxiety Tetsuya would certainly turn that gaze on him again, and he would be telling the other about his therapy before he knew what was happening. Tetsuya had a way of drawing information out of people.

Instead, he resumed stirring his coffee and let Tetsuya pick up his discussion of Kagami once more.

(If he felt the smallest seed of what felt like resentment in the pit of his stomach at the soft joy settled on Tetsuya’s face, well, it was probably just the coffee talking. Much too sweet to be anything but trouble.)

-

He woke up in complete darkness. Blearily, he moved to grope for his phone on the nightstand, but he was stopped short. His wrists were tied together.

Suddenly, Akashi was wide awake.

“Finally. I thought you were going to sleep forever,” an uncomfortably familiar voice crawled over his skin, and Akashi could feel his heart speeding up in his chest.

Abruptly, there was cold metal biting into his thigh.

“You’re so cruel sometimes, _Akashi-kun_. You threw me away like I was nothing. And after everything I did for you, too,” the voice was closer, warm puffs of air against Akashi’s abdomen. Akashi grit his teeth, trying to quell the panic rising in his throat and threatening to choke him.

“What’s wrong, Akashi-kun? Cat got your tongue?” The voice was amused, and Akashi struggled to breath.

“You have no right to be here,” he managed to force out, and all at once there was a searing pain slicing up his leg. He let out an aborted cry, breath stuttering in his throat. He could feel blood dripping down his thigh.

“Oh really? Is that so?” The voice was sharp and hard now, and Akashi felt as the knife was dragged up his body, the tip coming to rest pressed into the soft flesh of his stomach.

“Because you know what I think, Akashi-kun?” The voice went completely cold, and Akashi grit his teeth as the metal against his stomach drew blood.

“I think that it’s _you_ who has no right to be here.”

The knife plunged into Akashi, and he screamed. The pain was unbearable, throwing his heart into overdrive and forcing cry after cry out of his mouth. The knife was twisting, twisting, blood covering the sheets and tears pouring down his face, lips and mouth and throat being ripped open and- and-

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the malicious gleam in a single golden eye.

He gasped awake, skin clammy and sheets soaked with what smelled like a mixture of sweat and piss. His heart was jack rabbiting in his chest, and he frantically clutched his stomach, warm and untouched.

Dammit.

Slowly, he forced himself to breath, hand resting softly on his roiling stomach. It felt like it was the only thing keeping him grounded, like he might be sucked away if he moved it. Vaguely, he noted that he was shaking, but the cold grip around his torso pulled his mind away, forcing a heaving gag up his throat and viscous tears from his eyes.

After an eternity, he was finally able to pull his focus back in, becoming aware of his surroundings again, enough that the stench of urine felt unbearable. When his hands downgraded from violently shaking to trembling softly, he cautiously climbed out of bed, legs threatening to buckle as he hit the floor. He carefully righted himself, moves deliberate but glacial, and began to remove his bedding.

His mind lingered for a moment on the nightmare, but he resolutely drew it back in. It never did him any good to dwell on the dreams.

They came no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> Portugal. The Man


End file.
